Harry Potter, Duelist Extraordinaire
by lm92
Summary: Harry Potter has a chance to do something different. He meets an old mentor of Dumbledore who gives him an offer of training to compete in the Duelling World Championships. Will he make it to the final? What challenges will he face on the way? Please Review, any constructive criticism is taken on board. Thanks. Rated M for language and violence in later chapters
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** Good evening all! So, this is a follow on from 'Drunken Duel'. Two years after the end of the war sees Harry disillusioned with the ministry and he sees a way out, so takes it! As far as I'm concerned, the epilogue never happened.

Rated M for violence in later chapters and because Harry has a bit of a potty mouth. Cheers for reading and please do me a massive favour… Review review review.

 **Harry Potter, Duelist Extraordinaire**

 **Chapter 1**

Harry Potter is anything but an ordinary young man. Savior of the wizarding world, youngest auror in a century, youngest assistant head of the auror department in, well, ever. He is also an extraordinarily talented wizard, of course he is, he defeated The Dark Lord Voldemort. It is the two year anniversary of the fall of Voldemort, and instead of celebrating with the majority of the wizarding populace, or being at the unveiling of the statue, Harry, was fighting in a dark, dingy pub down knockturn alley. After dispatching his opponent with relative ease, something Harry was far too familiar with, he got presented with his opportunity for his first proper challenge since that fateful night, when he faced off against the dark lord.

Harry Potter was faced with a decision, follow this old man, Rupert Underhill, and take up professional dueling. Finally cut ties with the ministry, who sent him on the most dangerous missions, because, frankly, he was the only one good enough to do it. All the other competent aurors had died in the war, so it was left to Harry to scour the darkest corners of the world to round them up,. Which he had done, with pleasure. But it wasn't without challenge. These challenges however did not come from where you would expect, no they came from the ministry itself. The ex-death eaters were, in Harry's words, "A piece of cake to round up and were not a patch on the dark wanker." The ministry were constantly hauling him infront of the paper pushers, scolding him for excessive force. True, many of the dark wizards he brought in were missing the odd limb, or thrashed within an inch of their lives, but wasn't it the least they deserved. Well, that was what Harry thought anyway.

"So Mr Potter, what will be, stay here, constantly being brought to buck for doing your job one second, and then paraded round like a trophy the next. Or will you leave here with me, train and win?" Harry looked up the old, lined face of Mr Underhill. "You're telling me, you trained Dumbledore to duel? How do I know this is true? If it is, why haven't I heard of you before?" Harry was genuinely curious, surely he would have heard of such a man, if not from Dumbledore, then through other people. The ancient man tossed a very old raggedy edition of the Daily Prophet across the table, "Is this proof enough, Mr Potter?"

 _ **Young Maestro, Dumbledore Destroys Opposition In the Dueling World Championships**_

 _Albus Dumbledore. Remember the name, because, dear readers, it's one for the future. Mr Dumbledore, recently graduated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, with straight Os has just won this years Dueling World Championships. What's even more amazing is it's his first ever dueling competition. having gained entry as a wildcard, he shocked everyone by defeating (very narrowly mind you) defending champion, Lord Stephen Parkinson. Under the tutelage of budding trainer, Rupert Underhill, young Mr Dumbledore, displayed, power, accuracy, variety and speed never before seen. Turn to page 3 for more…_

Harry was stunned, but his mind was made up. He poured a drink for himself and his companion, no, new trainer. Raising his glass, Harry spoke, "Well Mr Underhill, here's to a fruitful, successful relationship." Underhill smiled, "First of all, Harry, now we are more than mere acquaintances, let us use first names. Secondly, when can you be ready for a trip across the water, I have a château , in the French countryside where we will be staying and where we will carry out your training." Harry was beginning to get excited, he had nothing holding him here, Ron and Hermione weren't in his life much anymore since their marriage, Ginny had ran off with that hook nosed fucker Victor Krum, everyone else, well, they were dead. Harry grew somber for fleeting second at that thought, but quickly shook it off as excitement welled within him, why hadn't he thought of this before? He was a damn good dueler and he knew it. Now was his chance, and he wasn't going to waste a second of it. "Well, Mr Under- erm, Rupert, I can be ready now, I just need to send a patronus to our _esteemed_ minister, to tell him not to expect me to be reporting for duty for the forseeable future, if ever again and then we can leave if you agreeable?"

Rupert Underhill merely watched as Harry summoned forth a great,majestic stag patronus and told it the message to pass to Kingsley Shacklebot, minister for magic. "Minister, you can consider this my resignation from the auror department with immediate effect. Find someone else to sleep in a sewer under the streets of Bangkok for you from now on." Harry then turned to Rupert, "With any luck, he's still at the pompous party in the ministry ball-room. So where are we going?" Rupert looked embarrassed, "Well, as much as I want to trust you Harry, what with you saving us all, but the address is something you'll have to earn, for now, hold my arm and and I will take you via sidealong apparation". With a crack, they were gone, leaving an empty bar, and a very confused Dean Thomas to clean up the mess from Harry's earlier duel.

Two weeks had passed since Harry left England and his relationship was becoming more and more comfortable, they would almost go so far to consider each other friends. Harry was lying in his bed chamber after yet another grueling day in the hot sun. His bed was far more luxurious than the camp bed he used in his tiny flat above flourish and blots, even more so than the four poster in the Gryffindor dormitory. Other than that it, was very modest with just a simple desk and chair, and a small book case in the corner. He had an en suite, which he was thankful for, because after a full days training he did nothing other than a shower and then, literally in some cases, crawl to his. This one of those days, training stepped up a gear today, and instead of the normal, 5 mile run in the morning, it was upped to ten miles, and the magic element was increased ten fold. They had been practicing on the speed of his casting. Now, Harry was already lightening fast. But Rupert knew he could be faster, much faster, he saw the potential, and so worked him hard to get that potential to the surface. They had their first tournament coming up in a week, and Rupert was adamant they would win it. A good start to Harry's dueling career was an absolute must. Partly to keep Harry's reputation, partly for the small purse of 500 galleons, but mostly for morlale. Harry couldn't see any improvement. While Harry was thinking about his apparent lack of improvement, Rupert was down the hall, in his own bed, thinking on a totally different line. He couldn't believe how far Harry had already come, the power the boy exuded was immense, and his speed, far out strips that of anyone he has ever seen in his life. But, he would not allow himself to ease up on Harry, he had to keep pushing him, he felt he had a duty to help Harry reach the heights he knew the boy could. It was with this thought, an idea popped in his head and his lips curved in a grin…

 _So, what did we think, chapters will get longer as I go along, like I said at the top, please review. Until next time._


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N okay, so here's chapter 2, I'm kind of writing on the fly, just chucking down what comes into my head, so if you have any questions to what may happen in the future, I may not have an answer :P Again, please review, tell me where I'm going wrong etc. also because this is all on the fly, I am open to suggestions. Cheers!**

 **Harry Potter, duelist Extraordinaire**

 **Chapter 2**

"Woah what the fuck?" Harry cried out, jumping out of bed, cold and wet. Casting very hasty drying and warming charms, harry regarded a Rupert, who was too busy laughing to care, with a look that promised revenged. After calming himself down, Rupert finally spoke through heaving breaths, "Harry, you have to expect the unexpected, now, go for your run, I will prepare breakfast for you" Harry looked at his watch seeing the time he opened his mouth to argue, but was quickly cut off "Like I said, expect the unexpected, and sending you out for your run at 3 am is definitely unexpected, now go" Just as Harry was leaving his room, Rupert fired another jet of water at Harry, only this time, he dodged, and conjured a swarm of bees and directed them at his mentor. While Rupert was distracted, he cast the aguamenti charm at Rupert's feet and instantly froze it, leaving him stuck to the ground with bees swarming around his head. For good measure, he conjured honey and dumped it on the elder man's head. Harry made a swift escape before Rupert could free himself, and set off for his morning run, laughing all the way out of the house.

The young man once outside, completed his stretches and set off running. In just two weeks, his fitness had greatly improved, but he was still agitated that it seemed nothing was happening with his magic or spell casting ability. He pondered on this as he continued, pushing him self harder and harder. Running at a hard pace, that even many professional runners would struggle at, he was all of a sudden hit in the back of his legs by something rather large and rather heavy, and if the snarling was anything to go by, rather aggressive. Harry controlled his fall into a forward role and immediately jumped up and span 180 degrees to face his attacker. "Shite." was the only word that escaped his lips as he was faced with an acromantula, almost the size of that thrice damned pet of Hagrid's, Aragog. Harry could see the potent venom dripping from the large fangs of the attacker, and he knew he had to fight, no way would he be able to out run it. So Harry began in earnest.

Back at the chateau, Rupert was watching his young ward through a telescope. "Don't be silly boy, a stunning spell against a full grown acromantula, arse, where's your killer instinct?" Rupert's question was immediately answered as Harry launched himself into the air flipping over the massive creature, firing a boderlnie dark cutting curse at the huge head, gouging a valley through the flesh and into the skull, injuring the giant spider. This sent the animal into a blind rage, Harry capitilised on the un-coordinated movements and sliced the front two legs off before firing a blasting hex, launching the spider back 20 feet, giving him time and space to carefully aim another cutting curse, pouring more power into it this time, it cleanly took the head off the large beast, legs twitching slightly before it went completely still. "Good lad, we're getting there" Rupert said to no one in particular.

Back outside, Harry took a deep breath in, wondering whether he should head back or continue his run. That was until he heard the magnified voice of his mentor, "Keep running Harry, you aren't done yet, like I said, expect the unexpected" Harry shook his head in disbelief, Rupert had organized this. Harry's only reply was the two fingered salute before setting off again, being more careful this time though. However, the rest of his run was uninterrupted. When he returned to the kitchen, having hardly broken a sweat, he saw that a large, yet healthy breakfast of porridge, fruit and toast had been prepared. Upon spotting Rupert entering the kitchen, he immediately set about him, "You could have killed me you crazy old fucker, what the fuck do you think you're doing!?" Rupert merely laughed, "Calm down Spider Slayer, I was watching all the time, and may I say, other than the very weak stunner you opened with, you performed admirably, you are improving. You will be more than ready for next week's tournament." Harry looked skeptical, "But I don't feel any difference in my spell casting". His mentor sat and piled fruit into his bowl before answering "it's because you are improving you can't feel it, it's easier for you you see. But I tell you what, you don't believe me? Remember the dummies you fired on when we first started, and they recorded data on your speed, power and accuracy?" Harry nodded as he too helped himself to the fruit "We'll work on those again today and compare the results. How does that sound?" Pacified, Harry merely nodded and tucked into his breakfast.

"Okay Harry, so, as I explained to you the other week, these dummies record your scores out of 500, a normal wizard like, say your friend, Dean, from the intelligence corps, should be averaging around 200 on each. Stronger wizards, lets take, the late Alastor Moody, would be hitting about 300 to 350. Higher end magic users, like yourself, the late great Albus Dumbledore, Tom Riddle and if I do say so, myself, would be 400 plus. The last time, on Power, you scored a remarkable 420, only one person has ever beaten that, on record, and that was Albus, with 440, and he was 28 when he did that, so you have plenty of time, Accuracy, you scored, 408, again, very good. However, it was your speed that caught my eye, 469, the highest that I know of, again, on record. So, it's going to be hard to beat that anyway. But with all the hard we've put in, I'm sure we'll some improvements already, well I know for a fact we will, but for your piece of mind. But think of the long game Harry. If your hitting scores like that, think what you can do in say, 5 years time, 10, 20 years time. But shall we begin?" Harry nodded his head, grim determination written on every inch of his young, slightly bearded face. "Okay Harry, you know the drill, fire the stunning spell, as hard, fast and accurately as you can for five minutes. Aaaaaaannnddd, GO!"

Harry began at a furious pace, stunning spell after stunning spell. Allowing more power to seep into each one that left his wand. So committed to his task, focused on the bullseye on the dummy's heart he was, he didn't notice the golden glow he started to emit. Rupert's only visible reaction was his eyebrows disappearing somewhere into his hairline. Inside however was another story, he was both scared and excited. He'd never seen anything like this before, only heard tales of it. Legend has it, when Godric Gryffindor was dueling Salazar Slytherin, in that famous duel, all those years ago, this happened to Gryffindor, who somehow harnessed it, and fired it as a beam of pure magic at his foe. This was very interesting indeed, but, unless Harry noticed it, he would keep it to himself for now. Rupert knew he had long nights of research ahead of him.

After what seemed like a lifetime, Rupert called out "10 seconds left Harry!" Harry poured every last bit of energy he had, into his spells, he'd stopped vocalizing about 2 minutes ago, it was spending energy needlessly. As he fired his last spell, he let out a bellowing roar, reminiscent of his tiger animagus form and literally blasted the dummy to pieces. After getting his breath back, Harry looked at his mentor and had only one thing to say "Woah!" Rupert smiled proudly at the young man and put his hand on his shoulder, and looked deep into his emerald green eyes, still glowing with magic, "You see Harry, I don't think we need the actual results to see how much you've improved. But remember this doesn't make you a great duelist. Don't get me wrong, you are more than capable in a fight, but the guys on the circuit have been round the block, they know the tricks, what they can and can't get away with. In combat, I have no doubt that you'd wipe the floor with anyone, but that's no rules. These guys know the tricks, that's what we need to work in the run up to the world championships, so you and I shall start dueling against each other shortly. But, lets see your results." Rupert fixed the dummy and looked at the data, he couldn't hide the surprise on his face, so Harry immediately ran over. He couldn't believe it. It read:

 _Accuracy 427_

 _Power 481_

 _Speed 494_

If Rupert was surprised, Harry was blown away, he couldn't believe it, but, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed by his accuracy. It was an incredible score, but still, it looked pathetically low to him compared to the others. The older man just looked at him seriously "Harry, I'm sure I don't need to tell you this, but with all this power, as the muggles say, comes great responsibility. But on a lighter note, you're going to be one hell of a handful, even without the tricks you're going to learn from me. But I think that's enough physical work for today. Go in and study for the rest of the day. No doubt you're slightly worn out."

 _ **A/N Okay, so that's chapter 2 done. Next chapter, the tournament, and we see an old acquaintance. Thanks for reading, if you enjoyed it, please review. If you didn't enjoy it, hell, review anyway. Until next time. Cheers!**_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N So here's chap 3, hope you're enjoying, thanks to for the positive reviews. The rest of you, if you are enjoying, let me know, if you're not, let know too! Cheers!**

 **Harry Potter, Duelist Extraordinaire**

 **Chapter 3**

Harry woke to the bright rays of sunshine peeking through his curtains. He smiled to himself, he'd had a rather nice dream about a rather nice French girl he'd met at the shop down the road. Harry hoped he saw her again, the way she wiggled her hips as she walked was devine. He felt on top of the world as he walked to his en suite to get washed for the day ahead. As he was washing he remembered what today was, it was his first tournament, and he began to grow nervous. Thoughts of failure flying around his head. Sure, he knew he was fast, very fast and very powerful. But these French wizards had a reputation of, while being very lower on the power and speed scale, they were deadly accurate and tricky. It may not have been a big tournament, in fact only an amateur, but he could see the headlines in the Daily Profit should he fail miserably, ' _Poorly Performing Potter Flops Against French'._ With a groan, he finished up cleaning, and got dressed and headed for breakfast.

Harry sat down at the table as Rupert served breakfast, keeping an eye on Harry's face which was getting paler and paler by the second, before he blurted out, "I cant do it Rupert! I'm going to bloody fail!" Ruperts only answer was to draw his wand, quick as a flash and fire off a stunning spell at his rising star, who batted it away without even looking up. "Harry, you need to stop being a ponce. Look, if you can do that when you aren't expecting it, think what you can do in this tournament!" The rest of breakfast passed in relative silence, with Harry trying to fire himself up. He knew that he'd need to be ruthless, and finish the duels off quickly, to convince himself more than anything that he deserved his title of, 'best fighter in ministry history'.

After breakfast, Rupert, and Harry headed out to apparation in the large garden and with a crack, disappeared. Reappearing in a quiet side street in Clermont – Ferrand, just off the place-de-jaude. "Right Harry, we need to go to the cathedral, the tournament is being held under it." Harry followed where Rupert's finger was pointing, and was stunned. Stunned by the beauty of the Cathedral looming over the bustling city. It's spires pointing out above everything else, strangely reminiscent of bat ears Harry thought. The dark, volcanic rock that it was built out of, standing out against the bright cloudless sky. 'I've got to come back sometime and take a proper look at this' Harry thought to himself. After letting his mind wander very briefly, he snapped it back onto the task at hand. They set off on the short walk through the town to get to the magnificent structure, casting glamour charms on their robes first so as to blend in.

Under the catherdral, it was surprisingly light and airy, 'I love magic' thought Harry, not for the first time in his life. Around the edges of the huge chamber, were stands for any crowds that may come to watch, and in the middle, were five dueling platforms all adjacent to each other. The chamber was slowly filling up, with both competitors and the audience. Harry's nerves were starting to come back to him. Sensing this, his old mentor rested a hand lightly on his shoulder in support, to which Harry gave a grateful nod. "Harry, Harry, is that you?" Harry recognised that voice and immediately turned around, a huge grinning splitting his face. "Neville! Good to see you mate, how are you? Hang on, what the hell are you doing, don't tell me I'm going to have to fight you?" Shaking hands, Neville replied, "Nah, you're safe mate" he winked, "Well for today anyway, I'm just watching for today, but I'm fighting in the Paris open next month, just sizing things up, I heard a rumour you were competing today, couldn't miss that could I?" Neville Longbottom had changed a great deal. He'd gone from being a short, plump boy, petrified of his own shadow, into a hulking 6ft 4 mountain of pure muscle, and if the tales of his bounty hunting had any substance, a ferocious fighter. Even though Neville had never been in Harry's 'inner circle' particularly, in a way, Harry valued this man over any other, he was always there when Harry needed him, no matter what. "Why d'you look so nervous, you're 'the-boy-who-won' remember, if a Dark Lord can't bring you down, what's a few poxy Frenchies gonna be able to you soft twat" Harry couldn't help but laugh at that, gone was the timid shy Neville, here was a young man, who was confident, and didn't care what he said. "True Neville, true. Anyway mate, I'm going to go and register, this is Rupert by the way." Harry said, gesturing to the wrinkled man, who nodded his head, "I'll introduce you properly later if you want to grab a drink after this. It may be in celebration, or commiseration, who knows. But, I know, either way, I could fucking kill a pint after. This old sod's not let me touch a drop" Rupert just laughed. "Yeah sure thing Harry. Good luck mate, I'll be rooting for you!" With that Neville headed off and took a seat in the stands, leaving Harry, once again, with his thoughts, although much brighter now, and far more confident after Neville's mini pep talk about 'Poxy Frenchies' he thought internally and let out another chuckle.

Harry's first opponent, was a young Frenchman, about 25, who had previously won the under 18 european championship, but Rupert, who was an avid follower of dueling of any standard, knew it would be easy for Harry. "Harry, yes, he was good, but not great, not like you. Bear in mind, when he won that tournament, there were no young prospects around, he practically walked to the trophy unhindered. Also, since then he hasn't done anything, look at him, you can tell from the way he moves, he's gone to seed already. He's got fat and slow. Don't worry about power, save that, just really on pure speed. Make that prick dance, pepper him with nuisance spells. Aim blasting curses around his feet, wear him out. As soon as you see gap, a nice simple expelliamus, no point showing all your tricks early ey lad?" Harry nodded, stretching his arms and shoulders as he stepped onto the platform, wand held loosely in his hand, ready, and now confident.

"Bonjour! Bonjour! Bonjour! We are honoured to present, in zee red end, zee savior of zee wizarding world, Monsieur Potter! And in zee blue end, Clermont's favourite son, and former European champion, Monsieur Thauvinl!" The two competitors met in the middle of the dueling platform, bowed to one another, bowed to the referee, and took twenty paces each away from each, and turned, adopting their stances, waiting for the whistle to signal the start.

With the sound of the whistle, they were off. Harry firing a blisteringly fast volley of spells, three blasting spells, one to the left, one to the right, and one in front, effectively pinning Thauvin in place. Immediately followed by torrent of water to his opponents feet, freezing it, the same trick he'd used on his tutor previously and finally "Expelliarmus!" Harry cried. The next thing the crowd knew, Thauvin's wand was arcing down the platform, into the waiting left hand of 'The chosen one'. Thauvin didn't even have a chance to think of a spell, let alone defend the ones that came at him at unbelievable speeds. He had to admit, it was rather special. The crowd was the same as they erupted into applause at the performance they just witnessed. Only three people in the whole building knew that that was slow by Harry's standards. Harry himself, Rupert, and Neville. Neville knew he was holding back, 'He was faster than that in school, this is going to be a walk in the park for him.' He thought to himself. And it was.

In what seemed like no time at all, Rupert was giving Harry his final pep talk of the day. Harry's path to the final had been almost laughably easy. Admittedly, it was only an amateur tornament, but even so, these guys (and gals) were supposed to be, either rising stars, or ex champions who fancied a work out, not push overs. 'Poxy Frenchies' Harry thought, remembering Neville's earlier words. "Harry, are you listening to me?" Rupert snapped, dragging Harry's attention back to him, "Now you're opponent, Thomas Ducourtial, is very good, you may have to be a bit nastier with this one, he was the other wildcard into next years World Championship. He's good, I'm not going to tell you how to fight him other than be careful, don't get complacent, he can take a lot of punishment and keep on coming back. Like I say, get nasty if you have to, remember, the only thing you cant use are the unforgivable. Go get 'im kiddo!" Harry nodded, and closed his eyes, visualizing the fight to come.

Five minutes had passed when he heard his name called by the referee, announcing that the duelists were required on the center platform. He stood, opened his eyes, which were glowing, and strode to the platform, robes billowing behind his tall, strong frame. Looking to all watching, the most powerful wizard on the planet, which, he most probably was…

 _ **A/N So that's chapter 3 done, I know there's not much action here again, but I promise in the next chapter, in the final, there'll be a lot. I'm just struggling to get it out how I'm seeing it in my head. So I thought, instead of rushing it, get this out for you guys, and then work on the final for chapter 4. Nex chapter will also see a bit of humor with Harry, Rupert & Neville getting very intoxicated. Also, absolutely no offence meant to any french readers. I love the French! Thanks guys, as always, review please! **_


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